


A Simple Choice

by juststella



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: F/M, Mild Language, The 'F' word is used a bit in this story...sorry!, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:54:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27853778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/juststella/pseuds/juststella
Summary: Written for Everlark Fic Exchange - Springtime 2020Prompt 83: Katniss is whipped instead of Gale in Catching Fire, Peeta’s the one who’s there to take care of her after. [submitted by anonymous].Prompt 116: Peeta braids Katniss’ hair to soothe her. [submitted by anonymous]
Relationships: Katniss Everdeen/Peeta Mellark
Comments: 54
Kudos: 106
Collections: Everlark Fic Exchange - Springtime 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to the Everlark Fic Exchange moderators @javistg and @xerxia31 for their generous time and patience while I finally got my act together.
> 
> Thank you to the two anonymous prompters. I took a little time trying to decide how to go about incorporating both prompts into my story. There was only one way to go which was to use my version of The Hunger Games. This is what I came up with and I hope you like it.
> 
> A special thank you to my friend and beta @sunsetsrmydreams. Without your support and guidance, this story would still be a dreaded 'Work in Progress'.

_“Trust me.”_

I did. I trusted Katniss with my life, and so it seemed at the time…with my impending death.

After everything we both went through to survive, enduring the pain and horrors only _The Hunger Games_ could bring, it wasn’t enough.

It would never be enough.

The Capitolites craved this abhorrent form of entertainment and under the watchful and devious eye of President Coriolanus Snow, thrilled at the sight of children kill and be killed. 

As it was in previous games, once the first wave of bloodshed was spilled, tributes from Districts 1 and 2 formed packs like wolves and hunted down the weak and vulnerable one by one before turning on themselves until only one was left standing. 

The Victor.

All this savagery was broadcasted live each year across Panem in all its goriest detail and deemed mandatory viewing for every citizen.

Through it all, Katniss and I beat the odds and fought our way out of the gruesome web the Gamemakers spun to be the last two remaining tributes from the same district. But I should have known better…should have never allowed myself to be duped into believing the odds would at last be in _our_ favour.

All our valiant efforts to _stay alive_ was thrown in our weary and battle-scared faces.

President Snow had no intention of honouring the change in rules by allowing both of us to live and for the first time in _The Hunger Games_ infamous history, have two tributes jointly crowned as Victors. So when the words bellowed in the air announcing the revocation of those rules, it came as little surprise to me.

The promise of a peaceful life and all the wealth any citizen could ever want held no sway over me. Already knowing the odds would never be in _my_ favour, I accepted my fate.

For as long as I could remember, it had always been a fanciful dream of mine to live a life with Katniss, if she would allow it. Dreaming of our toasting and the vows I would say to her as I broke a piece of bread I baked myself and brought it to her sweet mouth. The feel of her soft body as we made love for the first time, even as far as raising a family of our own someday was a stupid pipedream, and I foolishly clung onto it all. Any hope of it becoming a reality was ripped from my grasp and shattered into a million pieces.

The choice was a simple one. When we were reaped, I vowed to do everything I could to protect Katniss even if it meant sacrificing my own life so she could live. I had no chance of winning and besides…no one needed me back home. But it became apparent Katniss had other ideas.

_“Together?”_

The sound of her voice echoing my question came as a soft whisper and in that moment we understood each other. If we couldn’t leave the arena together, then we would die…together.

In the face of death itself, that one singular word gave me a strange sense of calm and peace.

_“One.”_

Starting off the count knowing how little time I had left in this cruel and merciless world, the chance to tell Katniss what I’ve always felt in my heart was before me…and quickly ticking by.

_“Two.”_

I inhaled a deep breath sure the words would flow but instead my voice fell silent. Time was clearly against me but how many words would I need to express what Katniss meant to me?

In the precious dying second, my hand as if possessed with a will of its own, reached for her braid. This was something I had always longed to do and if I couldn’t say those words to Katniss, then I hoped she would feel them through this one innocent touch.

I would have given anything to sketch those steel grey eyes staring back at me. A chance to kiss her deeply and unravel her braid as I gently combed my fingers through the silky dark tresses the way I hoped she would like. Just one last chance to watch over her as she slept soundly in my arms and whisper the words she should have heard me say years ago.

But this was the cruel reality I was faced with and the closest thing I would ever get to realising any part of my dream. And I made sure not to let that final moment between us slip by. 

_“Three.”_

I focused on the only image I would take with me into the darkness… _her eyes_.

Slowly, we brought the handful of poison berries to our lips, ready to end this before the Gamemakers took the choice away from us when the deafening sound of Claudius Templesmith’s desperate shout rang out from the hidden audio speakers, freezing us both from any further movement.

_“STOP! STOP! STOP!”_

…and so we did.

***

All that seems like a lifetime ago instead of weeks. _The Hunger Games, The Victory Tour_ and everything in between changed after the cameras finally stopped rolling and we boarded the train for home. And as we sped closer to District 12, Katniss began to withdraw from me and eventually shut me out completely and it confused me.

What did I do to make her feel so _indifferent_ towards me?

Those lonely nights on the train were the hardest to deal with. Sleeping without Katniss beside me was a new torture all on its own but it was what she wanted. I guess in the end, conscience got the better of her and I was finally put out of my misery with the hurtful truth.

It was an _act_ … _a show_ that Katniss and our mentor Haymitch Abernathy devised to fool the Capitol into believing we were _star-crossed lovers_ desperate to be together even in death, only it was me who was completely fooled.

But their plan worked, and it kept us both alive. The cave…the embraces…the whispered words…all those kisses were just part of the _act_ and she wanted to forget them all…but I didn’t.

When we finally arrived home, the citizens of Twelve were all at the train station to welcome us home. To my astonishment, they were cheering us both as heroes. Perhaps they too, were _acting_ in front of the cameras. But as soon as the scripted speeches were done and the crowd slowly dispersed taking Katniss and her family along with it, the finality of it all hit home.

I was alone.

***

Living in the Victor’s Village was a new start. But even in our proximity, Katniss avoided having any sort of contact with me. I tried my best not to let it affect me, but the hurt I felt inside festered like an open wound.

I missed her so much.

At first, I blamed myself for Katniss distancing herself from me. She said she wanted to _forget_ and maybe I reminded her too much of the arena and the nightmares those memories brought her.

But I had nightmares too.

Hearing her screams in the dead of night will haunt me forever and even now, it takes all my willpower to stop myself from crashing through her front door and rushing to her side.

She doesn’t need me.

At first, I thought time alone would help her figure things out in her head and I of all people, understood. But time wasn’t what she needed. I finally came to terms with what was _real._

Gale Hawthorne had been her choice all along.

***

As one lonely day slowly creeps into the next, working in my family’s bakery has been my saving grace, helping me cope with my new life a little more each day.

With both Bran and Rye learning new trades from the Merchant businesses they successfully married into, it left my father with no resources to help run the bakery, making me his only viable option.

The strain showed on his face and although dad would never admit to it, especially in front of my mother, I knew he needed my help desperately. So, when I suggested I could work in the bakery for a few hours each day, he accepted my offer in a heartbeat. In an odd kind of way, it felt good to be needed even if I was being used to keep our family business afloat.

It wasn’t like I had anything better to do.

Understandably, my older brothers were quick to register their new living and working arrangements at the Justice Building, automatically forsaking any claims of inheritance or ownership of the bakery. But it was a small price to pay as far as they were concerned, if it meant being free from under our mother’s thumb.

So, technically speaking I am now part-owner of the Mellark Bakery with all rights and privileges bestowed to any Merchant business holder, making mother my employee.

An ironic twist in fate.

***

Safely hidden in the darkness of my own room, my racing heart begins to calm after waking from my usual nightmare. As it is on most nights, my first compelling impulse is to rush towards the opened bedroom window and look in the direction of her room and breathe out a sigh of relief when I see her.

“It’s okay…just another bad dream…she’s safe,” I whisper to myself as I stare at the shadowy figure pacing the floor from across the way. Even in the darkness of her room, I would recognise her silhouette anywhere and she’s becoming alarmingly thinner by the day.

Katniss always leaves her lamp on during the night because she fears being left in the dark. Her phobia started soon after her father’s tragic death in the mines and the thought of him being buried alive in the explosion has left her emotionally scarred. At least that’s what she told me once before she drifted off to sleep in my arms.

Now, each night I watch on helplessly as Katniss paces her room. When I leave my house in the early hours of the morning for the bakery I try so hard not to look, but it only takes two steps outside my front door before my eyes dart towards her dimly-lit bedroom. She’s always there. Standing at her window, sleepless, anxiously twirling her messy braid around her fingers. When she spots me, she’s quick to move from sight.

I tell myself I must be imagining it, but I swear I can feel her eyes boring into the back of my head as I walk along the pathway, towards the gate. But I won’t allow myself to turn around and see if I’m right. She’s probably glad to see me leave while she waits for Gale Hawthorne to arrive.

It’s no secret Gale and Katniss are together now. My mother takes great pleasure in reminding me of this fact.

_“Stop pinning over that Seam trash! She used you! It’s a known fact what she does with that Hawthorne boy in those woods. She’s probably carrying his brat inside of her. Time to get on with your own life and find a wife to help you in the bakery…a nice Merchant girl…someone pure like Delly Cartwright. She’s smart, pretty, comes from a respectable family. Those qualities are a rarity. Delly’s the perfect choice for you.”_

_Choice._ Why do I always cringe when I hear that word?

I can’t continue to ignore the facts before me. Katniss hates me. She spends every Sunday with Gale sneaking off to the woods for hours. When they return, he stays at her house until late and the curtains in her bedroom which are usually left open even during the night, are drawn until he leaves.

I’m surprised Mrs Everdeen who was brought up with Merchant values would allow such a thing, but I guess after watching us in the cave during _The Games_ and _The Victory Tour_ , she’s not troubled by it now and happily overlooks her daughter’s lack of propriety because it’s with Gale Hawthorne after all.

I’m sure to hear the announcement of their toasting soon.

I need to keep reminding myself what Katniss does with her life is none of my business. What made me think it ever was? She’s clearly moved on with her life and maybe it’s time I thought about doing the same with mine.

For once my mother may have a point.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for Everlark Fic Exchange - Springtime 2020
> 
> Prompt 83: Katniss is whipped instead of Gale in Catching Fire, Peeta’s the one who’s there to take care of her after. [submitted by anonymous].
> 
> Prompt 116: Peeta braids Katniss’ hair to soothe her. [submitted by anonymous]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: DESCRIPTION OF WHIPPING 
> 
> Thank you to the Everlark Fic Exchange moderators @javistg and @xerxia31 for their generous time and patience while I finally got my act together.
> 
> Thank you to the two anonymous prompters. I took a little time trying to decide how to go about incorporating both prompts into my story. There was only one way to go which was to use my version of The Hunger Games. This is what I came up with and I hope you like it.
> 
> A special thank you to my friend and beta @sunsetsrmydreams. Without your support and guidance, this story would still be a dreaded 'Work in Progress'.

Dad and I make a great team working harmoniously alongside each other and it’s not hard to notice the difference in him in the short space of time.

He seems less pressured and the warm smile I remembered as a small boy has returned. Whether in the kitchen or serving customers, I’ve realised just how connected I am to this place.

I delight in friendly conversation but avoid answering any questions relating to _The Hunger Games_ which most of our customers respect. What I enjoy doing the most is preparing for the morning ahead and kneading fresh bread dough in the back room has become a tranquil sort of therapy for me.

In the mindless quiet, I can block everything out giving me time to sort the _shiny_ _stuff_ in my head until I’m left with what’s _real_. This might not be a proven method of mind-therapy, but it works for me most of the time by sifting through all my cluttered thoughts so I can make better decisions for me and my future.

And I need that now more than ever.

Mother, in her usual meddling ways was quick to invite the Cartwright family to dinner and insisted Delly and I go out for a walk alone to get to know each other. As it turned out, she’s good company and I enjoy having someone to talk to, although she does most of the talking herself.

Now we meet almost every evening.

Delly’s a nice girl, just like mother said and I know I need to start thinking about a lot of things especially my future, but she keeps hinting at speeding up our _friendship_ and I don’t think committing myself to her in that way is something I’m ready for.

In the few weeks Delly and I have been seeing each other, things have moved rather quickly from our casual walks after dinner. She’s pretty and sweet but I’m only fooling myself into thinking I could ever let another claim my heart.

Each time our lips meet, I close my eyes tight and imagine it’s someone else I’m kissing. I feel awful but I just can’t stop imagining grey eyes and a dark braid.

I’ve tried talking to Delly, suggest we slow things down and just get to know each other as friends, but she makes a habit of changing the subject at the slightest hint.

Far from being pure and the shy girl my mother claims her to be, Delly has on more than one occasion, suggested we move up from chaste kisses under the moonlight to something more intimate.

Her hands always seem to wander, telling me how good she can make me feel once I let go of my inhibitions. But each time she brushes her fingers against my belt buckle, I quickly step away and end the night abruptly with my ‘ _it’s getting late’_ excuse and walk a very disappointed Delly home.

Any normal hot-blooded male would have easily jumped at the invitation and I can almost hear my brothers smart arse remarks telling me what an idiot I am and saying something crude like ‘ _try before you buy’_ or ‘ _never look a gift horse in the mouth’_ , but I can’t bring myself to do that. I always imagined my first time would be meaningful, not just some frivolous teenage romp at the slag heap.

Maybe I am a complete idiot.

***

Hoping to gain some reprieve from the mounting list of questions in my head today, I busy myself by preparing the rest of the dry ingredients for another batch of baking but the unusual noise level coming from outside is becoming a distraction.

When I hear raised and panicked voices, I wipe my hands on my flour-dusted apron before covering everything on the bench with a clean cloth and head towards the shop front.

Walking through the swinging doors, curious to see what all the commotion is about, I see my parents peering out the shop front window speaking in hushed tones and so engrossed with what’s happening outside, they haven’t even noticed me entering the room.

  
“What’s going on out there?” I ask, and they both startle at my words.

Dad turns to me first, his face noticeably pale and pauses to swallow before speaking, “Jake Blacksmith came by a minute ago and he…umm…said Head Peacekeeper Thread has ordered everyone out to the square,” he answers, taking a quick glance towards my mother who stands stoically and uncharacteristically silent.

“Thread is claiming he caught a traitor trying to sneak back into the district to spy for the rebels. The punishment has been set at fifty lashes,” dad finishes with a harder swallow and a noticeable sheen of sweat covering his forehead.

The image of Thread using his whip to tear into flesh from the back of some poor citizen while everyone in Twelve is expected to bear witness to his cruel and barbaric form of corporal punishment, sends a cold shiver up my spine. 

Since he’s arrival, our new Head Peacekeeper was quick to impose strict laws forbidding practically everything his predecessor Harvey Cray conveniently overlooked… _for a price_. Now, anyone caught disobeying these laws usually find themselves tied to the newly-erected wooden post in the town square without trial or appeal and the punishment is always the same.

Being flogged within an inch of your life is Thread’s answer to law and order and the brute even insists on inflicting every lash on his unfortunate captives himself.

The first citizen of Twelve to feel the sting from the Head Peacekeeper’s cat o’ nine tails was Zed Palmer, a tailor with no male heirs to take over his business. That, along with severe arthritis in his hands meant he could no longer work to pay the hefty taxes now enforced and those who witnessed the flogging were grateful Zed was dead well before his fifty lashes was reached. Most disturbing was Thread not being satisfied until the last lash was counted.

I hope whoever this unfortunate citizen is, their suffering too will end long before the count to fifty is reached.

I move closer to the door and watch mother step out onto the street to join Delly and her parents who are in deep conversation while more people leave their shops and head towards the town square in hurried steps.

“A traitor?” I huff and shake my head in disbelief as I watch Merchants lock their shop front doors obeying Thread’s authoritarian command. “I doubt anyone in their right mind would want to come back if they had the chance at freedom,” I tell dad. “They should have kept running as far away from here and never looked back,” I add, expecting him to agree with me but he stares into the distance and offers nothing in response.

A moment of awkward silence falls between the two of us and the strange look on dad’s face gives me pause, but I let the weird feeling pass. As I turn to step back into the kitchen and carry on with my work, he speaks in an afterthought manner, “must’ve had a good reason to risk it all,” he says looking at me strangely, but I don’t say anything and give him a nod acknowledging his comment at least. Still, it doesn’t alter my way of thinking. If there was a choice between freedom or here…?

_No…nothing would be worth it._

I take another glance outside at the passing townsfolk all walking in the same direction towards the town square like a herd of frightened sheep. But my attention is more centred on mother who stepped outside to speak with the Cartwrights and are conversing in lowered voices, sending the odd stare my way.

That cold shiver I was feeling earlier returns and it runs through me like ice.

I wave politely to the Cartwrights, but they ignore my friendly gesture and after a few brief seconds decide to join the rest of the Merchant population gathering in the town square.

What could be more horrid than being forced to witness a fellow citizen of Twelve…or anyone for that matter, whipped to a pulp?

I try to block the image from my thoughts. I’ve seen enough horrors to last me a lifetime and I’m a little disappointed Delly’s parents seem eager to join the growing crowd.

Delly gives me a half-smile as she continues to speak with my mother and the looks I’m receiving from them both increases my uneasiness.

I can’t shake this feeling of dread and turn back to dad who’s staring out in the distance, his facial expression looking lost. “Something isn’t right,” I mutter under my breath, and even though I spoke in a hushed tone, I know dad heard me.

“What is it you’re not telling me?” I ask, knowing if anyone is going to give me a truthful answer, it will be him. Dad’s straightens his back and shoulders almost immediately and when his eyes meet mine, his chin begins to tremble.

“Dad?” I ask, holding in a shaky breath.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, dad looks away from me and gives my question a moment’s pause before nodding, almost as though he’s giving himself permission to speak.

“Jake said Katniss disappeared with her family and the Hawthorne’s a couple of days ago and everyone thought they’d escaped to the woods to join up with the rebels, but she was caught trying to sneak back in this morning…alone. She’s tied to the whipping post. Fifty lashes.”

I stand dumbstruck. This can’t be true.

“No…Jake’s mistaken! He must’ve heard wrong!”

The curtains in Katniss’s room have been drawn for two days now and I haven’t heard her scream out in the night. I just assumed she and Gale—

I clear that image from my mind as I try to process everything in my head and look out to see my mother shouting at dad to shut up and what a worthless idiot he is while Delly stands in silence, watching me.

Over my mother’s angry and verbal abuse, dad continues to speak, “I wished to God he was wrong but Jake saw Katniss being dragged up on the wooden platform and I have no reason to doubt him. He’s a good, hard-working honest man and wouldn’t make something like this up.”

This I know to be true.

Dad reaches his hand to my shoulder, but I don’t feel the touch as the world around me starts to spin and I feel like I’m about to pass out. I’m so caught in a daze I don’t even know if I’m still breathing or if my heart is beating at this point. How I managed to step outside without tripping over my own feet is beyond me.

I need to get to her.

Delly breaks her silent stare and rushes towards me with a look of determination on her face and reaches her hand out to try and stop me, “she’s not worth risking your own life Peeta…think about us!” she pleads, and her words hit me like a ton of bricks.

_Us?_

Was it her intention to keep me from knowing what was happening to Katniss until it was all over? Is that what they were all trying to do? I can understand my mother wanting to keep me from rushing to Katniss…but Delly?

I brush past Delly ignoring her pleas to stop. I can’t even bring myself to look at her right now and only get a few steps away before mother is in front of me, grabbing a firm hold of my arm and blocking me from running to the square.

“Let go of me!” I say through gritted teeth, as anger starts to build up inside me.

“You’ll kill us all by drawing attention to yourself and for what? She’s nothing but Seam trash!” My blood boils and just like Delly’s words, I don’t let the venom spilling from mother’s mouth stop me from getting to Katniss.

Mother wouldn’t understand…nobody would. Despite everything, I made a promise to protect Katniss and I know she’d do the same for me.

“I forbid you to go! Your future is with Delly not that dirty whore in the square getting exactly what she deserves!” she yells but I yank my arm away from her tight grip.

“My future is not for you or anyone else to decide…it’s mine!” I shout defiantly.

“You’re a fool! She’s as good as dead already!” I hear mother yell as I run towards the square.

***

I silently curse my legs for failing to get me to the square any faster and when I finally reach the cobble-stoned ground, I’m feeling ragged and short of breath.

Crack!

_Don’t let it be her! Don’t let it be her!_ I repeat those words over in my head as I try to catch my breath and refill my lungs with much needed air.

Crack!

I hurry my steps…breath be damned and as I approach the sea of faceless people both Seam and Merchant standing side by side to watch the sickening spectacle, I begin to push my way through.

Hands reach out to stop me and I hear their gasps and pleading whispers not to venture any further, but I need to see with my own eyes.

Crack!

I feel my blood drain from my body, but I continue to edge my way closer to the wooden platform and as I do, my legs begin to weaken as soon as I reach the first step.

Climbing the next two seems like I’m moving in slow-motion and when my eyes lock on the gruesome sight before me, I cry out her name in a pathetic wail.

“Katniss!”

_What has he done to you?_

My heart plummets at the sight of her limp body, hanging like a piece of butchered meat. Her hands are bound together by a thick piece of rope tied to a large hook above her head. Katniss’ braid is messy and mattered with loose and bloodied strands of hair covering her bruised face and when my eyes look closer to her bare back, rage envelops and I almost lose what little is left of my self-control.

The shirt Katniss wore has been ripped in half exposing the upper part of her petite frame including her breasts for all to see. The raised marks and torn flesh from the countless number of lashes she’s already received, seeps with so much blood I swallow back the bile rising from my throat.

I was too late to save her.

My eyes well up from tears rolling down my cheeks and I gasp for breath between my uncontrollable sobs. I shut my eyes tight praying this is a horrible nightmare and I’ll wake up in my bed, walk the usual steps to my window and see her alive and pacing about in her bedroom. But when I open them again, there’s no mistake.

This nightmare is _real_.

I feel my legs start to buckle from beneath me and I slowly kneel to the ground to stop myself from falling. I don’t know how to fix this…what can I do? She shouldn’t be here. Dad said she ran away.

_Why did she come back?_

Endless questions whirl around my head consuming me along with the grief and the realisation I’ll have to live the rest of my worthless life knowing I failed in my promise to keep Katniss safe.

Loud voices bring me back to the now just in time to see Thread’s arm raised, poised and ready to inflict another lash to her lifeless body.

Even in my grief-stricken state, the feeling of deep loss and sorrow is overtaken by a sudden rush of strength and courage from within and it propels my body forward to block Thread and his whip from finding their mark. 

“No!” I cry out. This Capitol brute will have to go through my dead body first before I let him touch her again. 

“Well, well, well…who do we have here?” Head Peacekeeper Thread remarks loudly and when I look up, I see him grinning with mutt-like eyes staring down at me.

“Looks like this traitor scum has a bedfellow eager to play white knight. She must have some hidden talents worth risking your life for,” he suggests crudely, wiping the sweat and blood from his face with the palm of his hands…Katniss’ blood.

The distinct sound of Peacekeepers heavy tread come barrelling towards me, then hands roughly try to pry me from where I lay clinging to Katniss.

“Can’t you see she’s dead!” I yell, shoving their hands away to stop them from breaking my protective hold over her body. “She’s been punished enough. What more do you want from her?” I shout to the point of hysteria, not caring if my question will be answered with a lash to my back or a bullet to my brain.

“It’s the other Victor Peeta Mellark, sir,” a voice I recognise answers from behind me. My eyes dart slightly to the left and even through the darkened visor of his white peacekeeper’s helmet, I know it’s Darius Jackson, one of a dozen or so decent soldiers stationed here in Twelve, clearing his throat and standing at attention.

“He’s also the youngest son of the town baker, sir,” he adds.

Head Peacekeeper Thread storms over to Darius and barks out a chilling warning, “you speak one more time without my permission Corporal Jackson, and I will take great pleasure in cutting out your tongue and feeding it to the jabberjays. Do I make myself clear?” Thread emphasises loudly.

“Yessir!” Darius is quick to respond as he stands at attention.

“Now I don’t care who he is, get him off this platform! I’ll deal with the gallant knight once I’m done here,” Thread orders and Darius obeys, saluting him first before stepping towards me with his head lowered.

“He can help you keep count while he waits his turn,” Thread adds coldly, as he inspects the leather handle of is whip.

_Keep count?_

I have no idea how many lashes Katniss received before I got here and the thought of counting them down much less being forced to watch helplessly as Thread carries on with her punishment is more than I choose to bear.

I jostle with Darius and the other two peacekeepers who stepped forward to help him pull me away from her body. It takes all three peacekeepers to overpower me and pry my hands away forcing me to separate from Katniss.

Weakened by my struggles and overtaken by grief, they drag me away and all I can do is cry out and tell Katniss how sorry I wasn’t here to protect her and that I’ll _always_ love her. Just as those words leave my lips she moves and moans in pain.

She’s alive!

“Stop! Please! I’ll take the rest of her punishment!” I scream, finding a new source of strength and scuffle myself free from the heavy-handed grips of the peacekeepers.

“Whatever you think she did…whatever the count, I volunteer to take them all. Just let her go!” I demand and as my words ring out, loud murmurs coming from the crowd distract Thread for a moment before turning his attention back to me.

“How very noble of you,” Thread snickers. “But your request is denied. This runaway whore was sent here by the rebels and she refuses to disclose her mission and the whereabouts of her leader’s hideout. Now move knight!” he commands, and when I don’t budge he raises his arm and I instinctively throw myself over Katniss to shield her and the pain is instant.

Crack!

The pointed leather straps strike my shoulder blade before I have a chance to brace myself for the blow. Even against the fabric of my shirt, the lash rips through the worn calico barrier as if it were made of paper.

My skin underneath feels like I’ve been stung by a nest full of _tracker jackers_ …but I don’t budge.

With clenched fists I try to ignore the painful stinging sensation and the warm, watery feeling that is probably my blood trickling down my shoulder and stay on top of Katniss’ body to block Thread from getting to her.

“She doesn’t know anything! She’s not a rebel spy!” I yell at the top of my voice, pleading with Thread to stop but when I hear the distinctive cocking of his pistol, I know my desperate pleas are about to be silenced with a bullet.

“You’ve tried my patience long enough knight. Obstructing a Peacekeeper from carrying out his duty and interfering with a prisoner’s sentence is punishable by death and you are guilty as charged!” Thread bellows and the gasps and murmurs of discontent from the crowd grows louder.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” an all too familiar voice shouts out from amongst the crowd and I’ve never been happier to hear his gruff tone.

Daring to look, I see Haymitch with hands raised, step up to the platform and inch his way closer to me and Katniss. If he is disturbed by what he sees, he doesn’t show it and keeps his eyes pinned on the Head Peacekeeper.

It takes Thread a split second to shift his pistol from the direction of my head, to our mentor’s instead and I’m holding onto my breath in trepidation of what may happen next.

Katniss murmurs something then moans in pain from her bloodied wounds as she tries to move and my attention falls back on her. But all I can do is gently stroke the only place I know Thread’s lashes haven’t ravaged.

With shaking hands, I stroke her hair and push a few loose strands away from her face before bringing my lips to her ears to hush her, “shush…it’s going to be okay. I won’t let him touch you again,” I whisper, hoping she can hear me. My only focus now is calming her as best I can so I start to comb my fingers through her hair while silently praying Haymitch can get us out of this hellish mess.

“I don’t think President Snow is going be too pleased when he hears what you’ve done to one of his newest Victors,” he tells Thread who keeps his pistol aimed at Haymitch’s head.

“Stripping you of your command would be my first guess. I’ll let you do the math as to what my second guess would be?”

Whatever game Haymitch is playing at to set us free better work because right now, I’m not feeling confident as he stares down the barrel of Thread’s pistol.

The Head Peacekeeper lowers his weapon just long enough to grab Haymitch by his jacket, bringing his face so close to Haymitch and of all the things to cross my mind at this crucial point, I’m wondering if he can smell the alcohol on our mentor’s breath.

“My allegiance is to General Maximus Jackson and I answer only to him not that old fool in the Capitol,” Thread informs him, then shoves Haymitch back raising his pistol towards his head again.

Haymitch unperturbed, regains his footing and straightens his jacket, “oh, so Maxy Jackson is your boss? Well, it’s a small world after all,” he remarks flippantly.

“Your General and I are old drinking buddies and we go way…way back. I’m sure he won’t be too thrilled when he finds out you’ve whipped a Victor within an inch of her life,” he quips to Thread who glares at him with displeasure in his eyes.

“Now who do you suppose Maxy reports to…huh?” he pauses just long enough to take a breath and when Thread isn’t forthcoming with the obvious answer, Haymitch supplies it for him.

“I’m gonna take it you’re still working it out in your head but let me help you out here. President Coriolanus Snow…that’s who. He’s probably watching us from the Capitol. Eyes and ears everywhere you know,” he says, waving his hand randomly about the square.

Thread takes a quick look around the square then turns his attention back to our mentor, “my men caught her sneaking under the fence. She’s a rebel spy!” Thread yells but Haymitch is quick to respond to his preposterous accusation.

“Katniss Everdeen may be a lot of things but a rebel spy isn’t one of them! Everyone around here knows she hunts outside the perimeter for wild game…technically illegal yes, but she’s done so out of necessity to help feed her family. She sells whatever’s left at the hob, which you and your peacekeepers seem to have overlooked while enjoying the fruits of her labour with the fresh meat you buy to fill your own stomachs,” Haymitch reminds Thread, and I hear voices from the crowd bravely agreeing with our mentor.

“We all know you’re a smart man, but have you taken a moment to think what the consequences you alone as Head Peacekeeper will be expected to pay if you kill Snow’s Victors, not to mention how all this will impact on our mutual friend, the General? I think the best thing you can do for yourself right now is to let them both go and pray the girl doesn’t die from her injuries,” Haymitch strongly advises.

Silence fills the square as the crowd hold their collective breaths and wait for Thread to react and just when I think all hope is lost, Haymitch gives it one last-ditched effort to free us.

“The President had Cray removed…permanently, what makes you think he won’t do the same to you?”

The colour on Thread’s face turns a scorching red but he tries to remain unaffected by Haymitch’s comment. No matter who gave the order, Cray was _relieved_ of his command the day Thread and the new troop of peacekeepers under his command drove into Twelve in their heavy-armoured combat vehicles.

Cray’s disappearance is a grim reminder of the absolute power President Snow holds over every citizen including his peacekeepers.

No one is safe…not even a Head Peacekeeper.

The silent tension is immediately broken when a peacekeeper rushes up to the platform, panting heavily and carrying a radio transmitter device. He salutes nervously first then informs Thread that General Jackson is on the other end wanting to speak with him without delay.

Thread snatches the device from the out-of-breath peacekeeper’s hand and strides to the corner of the wooden platform.

Even from this short distance, his General’s voice can be heard shouting from the other end of the device. After a much one-sided conversation, it ends in less than a minute.

The order for everyone, including us to clear the square, is bellowed out before Thread marches off the platform and into his armoured vehicle where it speeds back towards the peacekeepers barracks.

I untied Katniss’ hands from the large hook the moment Thread finished barking out his order and when she flops into my arms and begins to whimper, my first thought is to cover her half-naked body with my apron which starts to blot with blood. 

There’s no time to waste and with Katniss safely in my arms, I start to make my way off the platform in long even strides. Haymitch is there to guide me carefully down the steps before we make our way through the gathered crowd who strangely offer me sympathetic looks as they move to the side giving me a clear path.

This in itself is a strange occurrence but I don’t have time to analyse. There are some things I want to ask Haymitch but before I get a chance to open my mouth, he’s in my ear.

“That sadistic bastard! Thankfully for us Thread’s not too bright,” Haymitch claims. “Now listen to me very carefully boy and don’t ask questions…there’s not much time,” he begins, looking cautiously over his shoulders.

“I could wring that hot-head Hawthorne’s neck. He knew sweetheart would never leave without—” he stops mid-sentence, clearing his throat. “Nevermind…none of that’s important right now,” he adds and although our mentor is talking in riddles, one thought sticks in the forefront of my mind.

_If Gale Hawthorne was responsible for this in anyway and by some slim chance we cross paths in the near future…he’s a dead man._

“Take Katniss back to your house and stay there until I come for you both.” I go to protest, not exactly sure why I think it would be a bad idea, but Haymitch speaks again before I have a chance to utter a word.

“Don’t argue with me! Things are going to move quick from here on end, and I need you both ready and in the one place when all hell breaks loose. Just stay alert!” he emphasises strongly. “Your house is the safest place for both of you…no listening bugs there, I’ve made sure.”

_Be ready; stay alert; no bugs_ ; _when what happens?_ I don’t have a clue what any of that means and maybe it’s best I don’t… _for now_. 

What little he does tell me, I already figured out for myself. Without Katniss’ healer mother and sister Primrose, who escaped along with the Hawthorne family, there’s isn’t anyone in Twelve qualified to attend to her wounds, but when Haymitch mentions sending someone he thinks could help, I’m quick to refuse the offer.

_I won’t let a stranger near her._

“No! I’ll take care of Katniss myself,” I interject. “I know you have connections in the black-market, and I don’t mean Ripper. She’ll need the right kind of medicine and I’ll pay double whatever the going rate is…more if need be. Tell them to name their price and I’ll pay it! Just bring me everything you can lay your hands on, anything to fight infection and something strong for the pain,” I instruct with urgency as we make our way out of the square.

_I may not be a healer, but I know the basics and keeping wounds clean is the first step to healing. That much I learnt from Katniss._

Haymitch taps me on the shoulder and I wince, my body reminding me of the single lash I received from Thread trying to protect Katniss.

“Keep your money boy. I’ll get you everything sweetheart needs and if she lives through this, it will be a bloody miracle,” he says before hurrying off, and the insides of my stomach twists with his response.

_She has to live._


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for Everlark Fic Exchange - Springtime 2020
> 
> Prompt 83: Katniss is whipped instead of Gale in Catching Fire, Peeta’s the one who’s there to take care of her after. [submitted by anonymous].
> 
> Prompt 116: Peeta braids Katniss’ hair to soothe her. [submitted by anonymous]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the Everlark Fic Exchange moderators @javistg and @xerxia31 for their generous time and patience while I finally got my act together.
> 
> Thank you to the two anonymous prompters. I took a little time trying to decide how to go about incorporating both prompts into my story. There was only one way to go which was to use my version of The Hunger Games. This is what I came up with and I hope you like it.
> 
> A special thank you to my friend and beta @sunsetsrmydreams. Without your support and guidance, this story would still be a dreaded 'Work in Progress'.

The gate of the Victor’s Village is just ahead and as I get closer, Katniss starts to stir from her semi-conscious state and tries weakly to pull away from me.

I hold her a little tighter, trying to avoid touching her wounds and whisper she’s safe, but she continues to struggle and cries out in pain from her sudden movements.

My steps quicken as Katniss keeps trying to free herself from my arms and when I tell her, _“we’re almost there,”_ she mutters the one name that pierces my heart like a sharp blade. 

“Gale?”

This is the second time I’ve heard his name today but hearing it from Katniss cuts deep and it hurts me more than it should. But I try not to let it show in my voice and bite the inside of my cheek before speaking.

“No…it’s Peeta.”

Katniss mutters something unintelligible but stops fighting me and her tense body relaxes a little as she buries her face in my neck, taking in a deep breath and letting it out as a soft whimper.

There’s no time for my hurt emotions to resurface and when I feel her tears moisten my skin, I try my best to console her.

“Shshshsh, I know you want to be with Gale right now, but you’ll have to put up with me for a little while. It will be okay,” I promise to her. Katniss shakes her head and wraps her arms around my neck, clinging to me even tighter.

Climbing the steps of my house, I fumble with the front door handle and manage to get us safely inside before slamming the door shut with my foot.

Standing in the hallway, unsure of what to do next, I try to decide which room I should take her but when Katniss starts to whimper in pain again, my legs move responsively and I’m taking double steps upstairs towards my bedroom.

After laying her as gently as I can face down on my bed, I nervously bite my thumbnail and pace around the room needing a minute to think this through.

Cleaning her wounds is the most logical first step which means removing my now blood-soaked apron from her back and when I do, my stomach heaves at the bloody sight. But Katniss needs me to be strong for the both of us, so I sprint to the adjoining bathroom and splash water on my face to calm myself down then take a few deep breaths before washing my hands thoroughly.

I carefully clean each wound with a damp cloth, making sure to refill the bowl several times with clean tepid water. As gentle as I have tried to be, Katniss grimaces with each dab and my heart sinks further with every pitiful moan she lets out.

When I’m satisfied the wounds are cleaned to the best of my ability, I place a muslin cloth covered with a thin layer of crushed ice cubes on top.

There’s always a tray of ice cubes at the bakery in case one of us burns our hands from the ovens and it helps numb the pain a little, but it also lessens the chance of swelling and painful blisters forming.

Although this is nothing remotely like a small burn from the ovens, I figured it might do some good while I wait rather impatiently for Haymitch to bring the medicine.

_What is taking him so long?_

I know I’m flying off the seat of my pants with all of this healing stuff but as I watch Katniss for any sign of discomfort, the coolness of the ice seeping through the cloth seems to have a soothing effect on her. I assure myself this can only be a good thing and for the first time today, I breathe out a sigh of relief.

Now that I have that critical part under control, there’s no sense in putting off what I’ve been anguishing over for the last few minutes.

Although nudity has never been an issue with me, I know Katniss has always been self-conscious about that sort of thing and I can’t stop thinking how she must have felt as her shirt was ripped from her body in front of Thread and his men, not to mention every citizen in Twelve. She wouldn’t want anyone seeing her naked… _except for maybe Gale of course_ , but under these circumstances I hope she can forgive me for what I’m about to do.

I apologise profusely but she doesn’t complain and offers a slurred _“s-kay”_ as I carefully remove her trousers and then the rest of her soiled clothing including her undergarments.

With a clean cloth, I gently wash her skin and the dried blood from her hair with warm water mixed with a few drops of lavender oil my stylist Portia gifted me, amongst other _luxury_ items in her care package.

_“Just a few drops in your bath will help relax and soothe your aches and pains…and it smells divine,”_ I can almost hear her saying.

Once that’s done, I cover the lower part of her body with a fresh linen bedsheet and it doesn’t go unnoticed how thin she’s become. I tell myself I should go to Katniss’ house and grab some clean clothes for her to change into, so I start to make a mental list in my head of some things I think she’ll need.

A sudden loud knock stops my thoughts and has me almost flying downstairs to let Haymitch in.

“Were you making the fucking stuff?” I curse loudly as I fling the door open only to find the Mayor’s daughter, Madge Undersee standing on the other side, cheeks flushing bright pink.

“I’m really sorry Madge, I thought you were Haymitch,” I say, my cheeks heat with embarrassment as I move to the side and gesture for her to come inside, but she shakes her head.

“I need to get back home before I’m missed,” she tells me before handing me a small tin box.

“You’ll find a syringe in there…give it to Katniss straight away. It’s a sedative and will knock her out probably until morning, but it will take the edge off the worst of the pain. There’s also a Capitol grade salve which the peacekeepers use to help fight infection as well as having quick healing properties and from what I saw today, she’ll need every bit. There’s not much but a little goes a long way, just make sure you save a little for yourself,” she says, pointing to my shoulder, and when I take a look there’s a rip in my shirt and a streak of dried blood that I completely forgot about until now.

One thing’s for sure, no matter how many lashes I would have received if Haymitch hadn’t arrived when he did, Katniss would always come first and there is no way I would ever think of using any of this salve on myself. I nod anyway, thanking Madge for her kindness and go to close the front door, eager to run upstairs to give Katniss the medicines.

“I’ll do my best to get you some more,” she tells me.

“Thank you.”

Madge turns to leave but stops at the bottom of the steps, “I just want you to know…what you did back there...even when you thought Katniss was dead, that was the bravest thing I’ve ever seen anyone do for the one they love. I wish I had someone to love me that way.”

I don’t say anything, offering only a smile in response before Madge turns and starts her way back to town.

“Stay alert!” she shouts before reaching the Victors’ Village gates.

Between Haymitch and now Madge with all of this _stay alert_ stuff leaves me puzzled and somewhat curious, but there’s no time to figure out what it is I’m supposed to stay alert for when I hear Katniss scream.

“Peeta!”

I’m up the stairs and by her side in double time and try to calm her while she screams at whoever to let her go. It must be the peacekeepers who found her or maybe Thread before he laid the first painful lash to her back and hopefully not me, but I can’t be sure.

“Shshsh…It was just a bad dream…it’s not real,” I whisper as I gently stroke my hand over her still damp hair. 

“Peeta!” she cries out again.

“I’m right here,” I hush, and she holds onto me tight.

“He lied! You have to believe me!” her frantic words making no sense.

“You need to rest,” I tell her, too concerned all this jostling about may have caused her wounds to reopen and bleed again to try and make sense of what she’s saying. “I won’t let Thread near you ever again.”

“You don’t understand— AHH! It hurts,” she cries out, the pain stopping her from finishing whatever it was she was trying to say. 

“I know it does and I’ve got you something to help with the pain, but it will make you sleepy,” I say, stroking her hair with one hand to reassure her, the other still holding onto the tin box tightly.

Katniss begins to shake her head, “no…I don’t want sleep syrup…please Peeta, not that,” she pleads with me, making me wonder what’s making her react this way.

“I promise it’s not sleep syrup, but you need to hold still…can you do that for me?” I ask, laying her back down on the bed and covering her naked body again with the bedsheet.

I explain the medicine came from the Mayor’s daughter and show Katniss the tin box which seems to ebb her concerns long enough for me to remove it from the box. I’ve never done this before but neither did Katniss when we were in the cave and as soon as that thought crosses my mind, any hesitation I had passes and I’m injecting her arm with the clear liquid.

A few anxious seconds later and the chemical concoction in the syringe is beginning to work as Katniss loosens the tight grip she has on my arm.

Her face takes on a relaxed look and her breathing begins to even out and thankfully starts to drift off to what I hope will be a pain free sleep.

Even though I know Katniss can’t hear me, I speak to her softly and let her know everything will be okay as I brush her hair gently away from her face. It’s then I decide to try my hand at braiding to keep any loose strands of hair away from her back, especially before I apply the salve.

It takes a few attempts as my fat fingers fumble with her hair but she hasn’t uttered a word of complaint and sleeps contently throughout my braiding failures.

The medicine is really working fast.

Lost in thought, I almost forgot entirely about the salve and reach for the tin box again to grab the small jar and unscrew the lid. When I see how little is in there, I try not to let the disappointment show on my face. 

_Madge wasn’t exaggerating, but it must be potent stuff if this is all you get._

I dip my finger into the jar and gently apply the clear gel-like salve sparingly over the deepest gashes first then the lesser ones until most of Katniss’ back is covered with a thin sticky layer. I draw in a breath with every touch I place on her open wounds as I carefully spread the salve to ensure each raised welt is treated with an even amount of healing medicine.

As careful as I have been, the jar is empty and I can only hold out hope that Haymitch or Madge can get their hands on another.

***

I watch as Katniss sleeps and having her so close to me for the first time since _The Victory Tour_ ended feels like a luxury. But I’m quick to remind myself this is only a temporary arrangement born out of necessity and I’m probably the last person she would want taking care of her.

I can’t allow myself to get too attached. Katniss will leave the moment she’s well enough.

My mind can’t seem to stop going over the events of today. Dad finally telling me the truth; mother and Delly and everything they did and said; almost losing my mind at the sight of Katniss tied to the whipping post thinking she was dead; Haymitch coming to our rescue. Every detail replaying in my head with one puzzling thought sticking out from the rest.

I move the armchair closer to the bed and reach my hand over to Katniss and instinctively start to gently smooth my fingers down her braid, trying to sort things in my head.

So lost am I in the calmness it brings me, my voice follows my thoughts and blurts out the one question troubling me since this morning.

“People said you ran away, but you come back. Why?” I ask softly not expecting Katniss to answer.

“Couldn’t leave you behind,” she utters, her words sounding slurred.

***

_She came back…for me._

I rolled her words around in my head through the night and finally convinced myself that it was the medicine talking and to stick to the things I know to be true.

Katniss pushed me out of her life to be with Gale and if that wasn’t bad enough, she planned their escape from Twelve with their families without a single thought of me. Their plan succeeded but for whatever the reason, she came back and that decision almost cost her life.

_Could she be a rebel spy?_

No! I refuse to entertain that absurd notion and push it right out of my head.

I wrestled with my thoughts for hours before giving up exhausted from the mind battle and even managed to doze off at some point during the night.

Sleep didn’t last long and I woke up gasping for breath from my usual nightmare of running in the endless darkness desperately searching for Katniss as she calls my name over and over until her voice fades away.

I’m not sure how or when it happened but at some point during the night, my hand found hers. I must have reached out for her in my sleep, but I tell myself it’s okay and it’s not like she’ll remember much of the past 24 hours anyway. She’s safe and sleeping soundly in my bed and there’s a happy look on her face.

***

Sitting back in my chair, it takes a few minutes for my heart to stop pounding. There’s no use trying to fall back to sleep, it’s almost dawn anyway. So, I slowly untangle our fingers and decide to take a quick shower and change into clean clothes before heading downstairs to prepare some light meals for Katniss.

Dad will understand why I’m not turning up for work today and besides…I don’t think I’m ready to face my mother just yet.

The pot of broth I made for Katniss earlier simmers on the stove top and its delicious smell along with the freshly baked bread just out of the oven, permeates the air. I’m hoping when Katniss wakes, she’ll have an appetite and remembering how she liked to eat a simple breakfast, I made sure to include her favourites.

I’m busily preparing a breakfast tray to take upstairs when I hear a knock at the front door. I smile thinking it must be Madge with more salve or maybe Haymitch who I haven’t seen since he ran off yesterday.

_Maybe I’ll finally get some answers._

When I go to answer the door, I’m taken by surprise at the sight of Delly, who let herself in and is standing by the kitchen doorway wearing a rather low-cut dress I’ve never seen before.

Far from the reaction I’m sure she was hoping to get from me, the smile on my face drops. I can’t think of anyone I want to see less right now…apart from my mother.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, with a tone of displeasure.

Delly moves from the doorway and steps slowly towards me, “is that anyway to greet me? You didn’t come to see me last night and I missed you,” she proclaims, gazing around the kitchen until her eyes fall on the food tray set on the table.

“Did you seriously expect me to after you tried to keep what was happening to Katniss from me?” I explain rather coldly.

She steps into the kitchen, swaying her body and smoothing her hands over her dress, “of course I did! You always come by after dinner, nothing has to change because of that silly girl. I’m still your fiancée after all…or have you forgotten?”

_It seems I have._

I thought I made myself abundantly clear my future was mine to decide and it doesn’t include Delly, but by the way she just labelled our _friendship…_ it appears I wasn’t clear enough _._

“Delly—”

“You hurt my feelings and all I was trying to do was stop you from getting yourself killed. I know you didn’t mean all those things you said, it was all a big shock and you weren’t thinking straight,” she says. “We all say and do things we regret and are sorry for later, but everything turned out okay in the end. I’ve decided to forgive you and put yesterday behind us,” she adds, inching closer to me.

“I’m not seeking your forgiveness and I don’t regret what I did…I’d do it again if I knew Katniss was in danger,” I say, in no uncertain terms.

“This isn’t _The Hunger Games,_ “she says with a snap. “You made it back home alive and now you have responsibilities and a future to plan and under the circumstances, it would be best if someone else took over caring for Katniss now.”

If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear that sounded like something my mother would say and I’m not prepared to listen to this any longer. It’s time I spoke up and set things straight.

“I will be caring for Katniss until she’s well _…_ and exactly who would it be best for?” I question, unable to hide my annoyance by her comments. 

Delly glares at me and her cheeks begin to flush red with anger, her expression taking on a different look far from the one she wore when she first walked in.

“I’m sure your drunken mentor can take over. Isn’t that part of his job?”

“No…and don’t talk about him that way. If it wasn’t for Haymitch, Katniss and I would both be dead by now,” I retort.

“You wouldn’t have been in that position if you listened to your mother and me! We tried to warn you to stay away from the square. You almost got yourself killed and right now…you’re being vulgar and unfair about all of this Peeta,” Delly pouts like a spoilt child. “And I didn’t come here to argue with you,” she says in the same breath.

I clench my teeth recalling how everyone treated me as though I was a child and assumed it was best if I was kept in the dark about Katniss and it still leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.

“I don’t want to argue either,” I admit truthfully, and this brings a smile to Delly’s face. “But I think you and I need to sit down and have a serious talk,” I tell her, pulling out a chair and motioning for her to sit.

Delly nods and flicks her long blonde locks away from her shoulders in a boastful kind of way before stepping beside me and as she does, brushes her fingers up and down my arm. I step back and move to the opposite side of the table and take a seat. When she reaches out her hands for me to hold, I don’t take them. 

It’s plain to see what Delly was hoping to gain from this visit and although this isn’t going to be easy for either of us, she needs to hear what I have to say without her conveniently changing the subject. She needs to understand how I feel and how things can no longer go on as they have. If nothing else, Delly deserves my complete honesty.

I take a deep breath not really knowing where to begin, “we seem to have different views on our relationship status,” I start.

She gives me a cold stare and moves her lips to respond, but I’m determined to speak first before she has a chance to turn the conversation around as she so often does.

“Here me out first before you say anything,” I tell her. She rolls her eyes and lets out a huff in petty annoyance, but I allow myself to continue.

“It was my mother who planned for us to meet under the guise of a neighbourly dinner invitation between our two families, but I’m sure you were aware of her plans,” I say and Delly nods. “Mother had been telling me for weeks to move on with my life and when I finally agreed with her, she took it upon herself to make the arrangements without bothering to ask if I was okay with it…

It was awkward, but I thought it would be nice to have a friend I could talk to. Someone I thought I could trust. I did enjoy being in your company and your friendship helped me feel a little less lonely, but it soon became clear to me you were expecting more than friendship and I’m sorry I wasn’t totally honest with you from the beginning. I guess what I’m trying to say is with everything moving as fast as it did, I didn’t know how to react to your advances,” I finally finish saying.

“Well…” Delly sniggers, “I seem to remember you having no problems reacting to my kisses.”

A thump coming from upstairs distracts us both and it definitely sounded like it came from my bedroom. Katniss must be waking which means I need to finish making breakfast and check on her wounds. The rest of this awkward conversation will have to wait for another day and so I move from my seat, ready to ask Delly to leave when I’m stumped by her next comment.

“…in fact, you enjoyed our kisses so much, even your body reacted to them,” she adds voicing it rather loudly.

I hear sounds of movement coming from upstairs and my concern for Katniss intensifies. Without a moment’s thought of how hurtful my words may come across, I’m mouthing them, “if my body was reacting it would be to the image of me kissing someone else’s lips,” I tell her and the smugness on Delly’s face drops. In that moment I regret being so forward, but I see no sense in hiding behind the truth even though honesty can hurt sometimes.

“No matter how hard I’ve tried to forget and move on with my life, I can’t shake her image from my mind…and before you say anything, I know Katniss will never feel the same way about me. But I can’t change how I feel…how I’ve always felt about her and for that I’m truly sorry for leading you on and giving you false hope. It wasn’t my intention.”

Delly shakes her head and reaches for a handkerchief tucked conveniently inside the bustline of her dress to wipe away a tear, but I forge on.

“Yesterday made me realise more than ever, how pointless it is to think I can move on…not when I still feel this way about her.”

Delly slams the table with clenched fists, “How can you say that after everything Katniss Everdeen has done to you. I watched all those broadcasts and saw how you were being manipulated and used by her. She was probably praying you’d eat those berries first so she could claim victory all on her own. Seam only think of themselves!” she practically yells.

I look at Delly…really look at her and for the first time I see a side of her that has been kept well-hidden underneath that bubbly, kind and easy-going demeanour.

“Being Seam or Merchant didn’t matter in the arena. We were just two kids from Twelve trying to keep each other alive. And if your comments were a way to hurt me then it’s probably what I deserve after everything I’ve done.”

“I would never hurt you, not like Katniss has. I’m trying to get you to understand how you’ve wasted practically your whole life fantasising over her and what have you gotten in return?” Delly questions with one breath and answers with the next. “Heartache and pain! She’ll never give you the things I know you’ve always wanted. You could never trust her to be faithful, but I would be,” she says, reaching her hand out to me. “You and I…we can be the perfect little family and I can help you run the bakery, give you strong and healthy sons. All I’m asking is for you try harder to see things my way, the way they should be. In time, that Seam girl will be a distant memory and you’ll finally see I was the right _choice_ all along.”

I shake my head, knowing there will never be a reality to Delly’s hopes and dreams, “do you really want someone who has to try?” I ask, but she doesn’t offer anything in reply.

“From everything you’ve just said, there’s one important fact in all of this you haven’t mentioned,” Delly looks at me with a puzzled look. “We don’t love each other.”

A few seconds of silence pass before Delly speaks, “that’s true, we don’t…but you know as well as I do, Merchant pairings are arranged for good reason. It’s always been that way and I don’t know of anyone actually marrying for love…not at first. My parents certainly didn’t and neither did yours,” she says, and her words ring true.

I’ve never seen my parents kiss much less give each other a loving embrace or show any sort of real affection towards each other. Merchant marriages are simply deemed a satisfactory match by families who would gain the most financially, especially those shop keepers without male heirs to take over their business.

“I could never commit myself to anyone in that way…good or otherwise. If I ever marry, it will be for love,” I confess.

“Maybe in time, we can learn to love each other. I do have feelings for you, isn’t that enough?” Delly asks.

“Not for me,” I answer truthfully.

Delly clenches her fists again and it’s clear she’s not happy with my response, “Do you think coming to Katniss’ rescue will make any difference to her? She will never love you the way you want. Are you blind to see it has always been Gale Hawthorne for her? What do you think she’s been doing with him since you both came back…probably even before the reaping? The only difference is they do it in the woods like wild animals instead of the slag heap!” she yells, scrapping the floor with the legs of her chair as she pushes it back to stand in a fit of anger.

I’m taken back by her scornful words that seemed echoed from a familiar source and I’ve heard enough.

“You need to leave now,” I instruct. “I don’t think there’s anything left for either of us to say.”

She tries to argue her point, but I’m done listening and get up from my chair and walk through to the hallway and open the front door as an obvious hint for her to leave.

The time for subtleties is over and it takes a moment for Delly to accept our conversation has ended and the outcome wasn’t anywhere near what she had first hoped for.

As Delly walks towards the door, she stops and looks up to the stairs leading to the bedrooms where I’m sure she knows Katniss is sleeping.

“It was a simple plan really,” she says, her eyes still focused upstairs. “All I had to do was get you to have sex with me until I was sure. It worked for your mother and she said it would work for me too.”

I stand motionless with my mouth gaped open, completely stunned by her admission. It’s no secret why my parents are together. It would have been scandalous if dad hadn’t married my mother after she told him she was pregnant with my oldest brother. The fact my mother spoke to Delly and suggested she deceive me in the same way is beyond belief.

“You need to leave and not come back here again,” I tell Delly.

“But—”

“You planned and schemed with my mother and all this time I thought I was the one being dishonest. I can’t believe you would stoop to her level and use deception as a means to get me to what…marry you?”

What I think may be genuine tears start to flow down her cheeks, I find myself unaffected by them and stand at the front door waiting for Delly to leave.

“It was wrong…I know that now but seeing as we’re being open and honest with each other, we can start all over,” she pleads.

“Start over? As what…friends? I’m afraid it’s too late for even that now.”

Delly looks out to the pathway then turns her head to me, “I just don’t get it. At school, there were so many girls lining up for the chance to be your girl, me included, but you weren’t interested in anyone except Katniss Everdeen. She never even gave you the slightest indication she was interested in you, yet you continued to swoon over her and I never understood what she had above us all…I still don’t.”

No one could ever hold a candle to Katniss but how do I explain the depth of my feelings when I don’t understand it fully myself. All I know is it has no bounds and if I were to find enough words to define it, they would be for Katniss’ ears to hear only.

“Maybe one day you will.”

“You’re a romantic fool Peeta Mellark,” Delly says as she takes the first step out of my house. “Katniss will break your heart again the moment she heals. She’ll sneak out of Twelve the first chance she gets and run into the waiting arms of Gale Hawthorne…and his bed.”

“Do you think I don’t know that?”

“Then why do you still care for her so much?”

_Because I can’t let her go._

But I don’t say it and although I wouldn’t say our conversation has been fruitless, there’s already been too much time spent talking when I should have been checking on Katniss instead.

There’s only one thing I have left to say to Delly and I seriously hope she takes heed to my words, “if I can give you one piece of advice to take with you today it would be to forget everything my mother ever told you and never listen to people like her again.”

I’m half-expecting Delly to argue the point but she gives a curt nod and wipes the tears from her eyes. I know this is the conversation we should have had weeks ago but now with everything said and done, it feels like a huge weight has just been lifted from my shoulders.

Delly takes a moment, I guess to let everything sink in before taking another step and stops to look upstairs one last time, “your true love doesn’t deserve you,” she sniffs then starts her walk back to town.

“Goodbye Delly,” I say to myself, closing the door gently behind me and making sure to turn the lock this time.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for Everlark Fic Exchange - Springtime 2020
> 
> Prompt 83: Katniss is whipped instead of Gale in Catching Fire, Peeta’s the one who’s there to take care of her after. [submitted by anonymous].
> 
> Prompt 116: Peeta braids Katniss’ hair to soothe her. [submitted by anonymous]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the Everlark Fic Exchange moderators @javistg and @xerxia31 for their generous time and patience while I finally got my act together.
> 
> Thank you to the two anonymous prompters. I took a little time trying to decide how to go about incorporating both prompts into my story. There was only one way to go which was to use my version of The Hunger Games. This is what I came up with and I hope you like it.
> 
> A special thank you to my friend and beta @sunsetsrmydreams. Without your support and guidance, this story would still be a dreaded 'Work in Progress'.

Back in the kitchen I make quick work of preparing breakfast by slicing two thick pieces of bread and while I wait for them to toast lightly, I scoop a few teaspoons of home-made strawberry jam into a small dish before placing everything on the serving tray. Once the kettle has boiled, I pour the hot water into the tea pot and inhale the fragrant steam from the herbal tea leaves.

These are the things I know Katniss likes so I hope it will entice her enough to eat.

I had planned on running over to Katniss’ house earlier to grab a nightgown or something loose fitting for her to change into while her wounds healed but with my unexpected visitor, there isn’t time so it will have to wait until after she’s had something to eat.

Balancing the tray carefully, I approach my bedroom door to find it slightly open. I was positive I closed it before I came downstairs this morning so I wouldn’t wake Katniss from what looked like a peaceful sleep. But as I nudge the door gently open all the way with my foot, I am surprised to see Katniss standing by the window wrapped loosely in the thin bedsheet I draped over her yesterday, starring out towards the pathway and beyond the gate.

I take careful steps so I don’t startle her but the rattle from the empty teacup on top of its saucer ruins any attempt at me being quiet. Needless to say, Katniss doesn’t appear to have noticed me entering the room and seems caught in a trance clutching a separate piece of cloth close to her chest.

I know I shouldn’t be thinking this way about her but even draped in something as plain as a bedsheet and seeing the contours of her body as she stands in the morning light, Katniss is still the most beautiful girl I’ve ever laid eyes on and the urge to sketch her image is overwhelming. But any urges I feel right now are quickly supressed with a more pressing need to check on her wounds.

With that thought in mind, my eyes dart straight to the part of Katniss’ back not covered by the sheet and what I see…or rather don’t see, causes me to loosen my grip on the tray. Luckily, I make a quick recovery of my senses and save her freshly made breakfast from ending up in a messy heap on the carpeted floor.

“Oh my God Katniss,” I announce, my voice choked with elation. “Your wounds…they’re so much better,” I manage to say as I gawk at her bare back in amazement.

The criss-cross of jagged and bloodied welts of flesh that were spread across her back and shoulders yesterday have been replaced by faint pink lines. If I hadn’t cleaned and dressed her wounds myself, I wouldn’t have known they were there. 

She nods, bringing the cloth to her face and rubbing it lightly against her cheek, clearly not startled and being completely aware of my presence the whole time, “because you took good care of me,” she replies in a soft tone.

“I think it had a lot to do with Madge Undersee’s miracle salve...not me.”

Katniss shakes her head, “it was you…even after everything. You saved me and cleaned my wounds and—” her words fade as she tries to keep her emotions in check.

She’s always been so strong but seeing her like this surprises me and it hurts in ways I cannot even describe.

“It’s what we do…you and me. Protect each other…no matter what,” I concede.

“She was right.”

“Who was?” I ask but she shakes her head again before burying her face in the cloth. Whether she meant her mother or maybe her sister I don’t want to press the issue. Katniss must still be a little groggy from the pain medication and having an empty stomach isn’t helping. 

Still holding onto that mysterious cloth as if her life depended on it, Katniss steps away from the window and walks slowly towards the bed and sits, “when I woke I couldn’t find you and I called out but you didn’t answer,” she tells me, her eyes slowly cast to the armchair beside the bed.

“Did you sleep there all night?” she questions, raising her head to look at me. I nod in silent reply. “It must have been uncomfortable for you.”

“I’ve slept in worse places,” I say as I edge closer, recalling our nights in the cave and I wonder if Katniss remembers too.

Our eyes lock onto each other and I have to clench my fists tighter around the handles of the breakfast tray to fight the strong desire to wrap my arms around her and kiss her deeply on the lips. The mere thought is threatening to engulf me like a burning ring of fire.

I’m setting myself for heartbreak all over again and I need to shake these feelings away. Katniss will leave as soon as she has her strength back and when that happens, I’ll be resigned to living the rest of my lonely and pathetic life with only her memory to keep me company.

Clearing my throat, I move to the bedside table and rest the tray on top, “I’m used to waking early and I didn’t want to disturb you…and what looked like a happy dream, so I went downstairs to make a start on preparing breakfast and some broth for lunch,” I say. “I’m sorry I didn’t hear you call out for me. I tend to get a little distracted when I’m kneading bread and I wanted to make sure you had a fresh loaf for toast and of course, strawberry jam. It’s still your favourite, right?”

She smiles shyly and nods, “you remembered.”

“I’d never forget something as important as that.”

Our eyes meet again and for a few seconds, neither of us utter a word. I clear my throat to break the silence and nervously reach for the breakfast tray, placing it carefully between us and pour the tea as Katniss watches on, tucking loose strands of hair behind her ears.

I guess my hair braiding skills leave a lot to be desired.

“Mmmm…peppermint tea,” Katniss says before taking a careful sip from the steaming cup. “Won’t your mother be angry with you for not turning up for work this morning?” she adds a moment later.

“I don’t care if she is,” I say, breaking a piece of toast and holding it out for her to take.

Katniss straightens up and looks at me before her eyes fall on the piece of toast then she draws in a deep breath before taking a bite straight from my hands. When her lips brush against my fingers, my breath hitches at the sensation and I struggle to stay focused.

“I-I’m part owner of the bakery now and I decide my own hours…n-not my mother,” I say as Katniss chews slowly, her grey eyes never leaving mine.

“Looking after you will always be my first priority,” I blurt out without thinking. I should probably apologies for my forwardness but I’m so transfixed on her mouth as she chews and swallows the first piece of toast, I’d only end up saying something even more stupid.

Katniss places the teacup back on the tray and breaks a piece of toast. _Good_ , I think to myself, _she’s hungry_. But instead of taking a bite herself, she brings it to my lips in offering and I open my mouth wide and gently take it from her delicate fingers.

“Yes,” she whispers as I roll the toasted bread around in my mouth. Caught under a magical spell I want to live in forever, I find myself repeating it but as soon as the word leaves my lips, the smile on my face drops when Katniss brings the cloth close to her chest.

It’s the shirt I wore yesterday.

I get up from the bed a little too quickly and spill some tea on the tray but I don’t care. I’m annoyed and angry with myself for leaving the shirt on the bathroom floor. I meant to take it with me after I showered to throw it in the trash but my mind was happily tossing on what kind of bread I would bake for Katniss, it completely slipped my mind.

Katniss doesn’t say anything as I walk over to the dresser and pull out a clean white shirt from the top drawer which I think will do until we can get something of hers.

“I always forget to pick up after myself,” I laugh, trying to make light of the situation. “Here…let me take that from you and give you this to put on instead of that bedsheet,” I say, holding out my hand with the clean shirt. “We can go to your house later to grab some of your clothes, if you’re up to it.” I suggest.

Katniss nods and takes it with one hand but still clings to the shirt I carelessly left on the floor with the other.

“The bread…it smelt so familiar and I was about to come downstairs to find you but I needed to use the bathroom first and…” she says looking down at the crumbled and soiled shirt still clutched tightly in her hand. “I never meant for any of this to happen…not to you.”

“And I wished with all my heart none of this happened to you, but here we both are.”

“How many?” Katniss asks, lifting her head to look at me.

I know what she’s asking and consider lying by giving her some lame explanation but how can I when she’s been holding onto the truth so tightly in her hands all this time, “just the one but I hardly think it matters…not compared to yours.”

“It matters to me!” Katniss says in a raised voice, her chin quivering. “The salve…you used some on yourself and it’s healed just like mine, right?” There’s a desperate look on her face as she waits for my confirmation.

“Peeta?”

I feel a huge lump in my throat and swallow hard, “you needed every bit of that salve and I wasn’t about to waste a drop of it on me. Besides, I hardly feel a thing now,” I admit truthfully.

“Take off your shirt!” Katniss demands as she turns to the bedside table and reaches frantically for the tin box containing what I know sits an empty jar inside. “There’s got to be a little left for you. Your shirt Peeta…please,” she pleads, trying to scrape any remnant of salve that I know isn’t there on her finger.

I take a hold of her dainty wrist and gently remove the jar from her fingers and place it back on the bedside table, “it’s okay Katniss…it doesn’t hurt anymore.”

“But you need some too. We look after each other…you said so yourself.”

Katniss places her trembling hands on my chest and guides them down my shirt and I don’t resist. Neither do I when she starts to undo each button one by one then gently pushes the fabric over my shoulders and down my arms. I stay silent the whole time and watch her face intently as she kneels on the bed and begins to trace her fingers ever-so softly over the single welt splayed mostly across my shoulder. My heart skips a beat and I let out a hiss but it’s not from any discomfort I’m feeling.

“Why is it every time I try to protect you, all I seem to do is cause you nothing but pain,” she sniffs, stopping her tender touch. “It was stupid of you to try and stop Thread. You should have stayed away.”

“Both us know I wasn’t about to stand back and watch Thread try to kill you. What were you thinking sneaking back to Twelve after you escaped with Gale and your family? That was pretty stupid too,” I counter, pulling my shirt back over my shoulders. “Why did you do that…come back I mean?”

“I-I already told you,” she answers as she helps me rebutton my shirt.

“You weren’t making much sense,” I admit. “You mentioned something about coming back for me but I’m sure that can’t be true. It was just the medicine talking,” I say as my mind replayed her slurred and sleepy words from yesterday.

“It _is_ true Peeta. I came back for you.”

Her words are clear and precise and this time there’s no mistaking them.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for Everlark Fic Exchange - Springtime 2020
> 
> Prompt 83: Katniss is whipped instead of Gale in Catching Fire, Peeta’s the one who’s there to take care of her after. [submitted by anonymous].
> 
> Prompt 116: Peeta braids Katniss’ hair to soothe her. [submitted by anonymous]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the Everlark Fic Exchange moderators @javistg and @xerxia31 for their generous time and patience while I finally got my act together.
> 
> Thank you to the two anonymous prompters. I took a little time trying to decide how to go about incorporating both prompts into my story. There was only one way to go which was to use my version of The Hunger Games. This is what I came up with and I hope you like it.
> 
> A special thank you to my friend and beta @sunsetsrmydreams. Without your support and guidance, this story would still be a dreaded 'Work in Progress'.

**Katniss**

Peeta looks at me with wide eyes and I know he’s waiting for me to elaborate. These past few days…weeks seem so surreal; I hardly know where to begin but he needs to know as much as I know myself.

I won’t keep anything from him…not now…not ever.

“I bet your boyfriend wasn’t too thrilled when you told him why you wanted to come back. I’m surprised he didn’t try to stop you,” Peeta replies, with a questioning look.

“He did but I snuck away when everyone thought I was asleep,” I tell him. “And Gale and I aren’t like that!” I add hoping Peeta understands.

“Everyone in Twelve thinks you two are a couple…including me.”

I shake my head and slide a little closer to Peeta, “it’s not true Peeta!” I say, my voice sounding raised but not out of anger. “Gale kissed me…once when we were out hunting and up until then, I didn’t even know he had feelings for me,” I start. “We were hunting partners and that was it…that’s how it will always be with Gale and me,” I say, needing him desperately to believe me.

Peeta doesn’t say anything and it pains me to think how my careless words affected him in ways I never meant. I foolishly thought it was for the best but in reality, all I did was hurt him.

“I wished I’d never said all those things to you on the train.”

“But you did and you were pretty convincing,” Peeta chuckles, nervously rubbing the back of his neck and when he looks at me, the smile on his face disappears. “I kept asking myself what I did to make you hate me so much.” 

“Oh no Peeta, I could never hate you. _The_ _Games_ …what we went through to survive. I was so messed up and confused but mostly scared of feelings I couldn’t explain. The closer we got to Twelve the more confused I got. Then after we got home, Gale came to see me and I had no choice. I had to stay away and I’ve regretted that decision every single day since.”

Peeta thinks over my words and the passing seconds seem like hours before he opens his mouth to finally speak, “everyone makes bad choices sometimes.”

He’s right of course and those choices can cost you dearly.

I’ve been so miserable without him and being this close to Peeta has my heart beating so fast it feels like a pounding drum. And now it takes every ounce of strength I have to keep myself from flinging into the only arms that make me feel safe.

“Haymitch said there were no bugs in my house and I don’t mean the insect kind.”

My head pricks up and Peeta notices the surprised look on my face, “I’ve had some time to think things over and I’ll wager all of my earnings on our mentor being much more than what he has led people to think,” he says. “You can talk to me Katniss; it’s just the two of us here and we’ve got all the time in the world.”

I turn to look at the trees swaying in the breeze from the opened window before turning my focus back to Peeta, “no, if anything, it feels like our time is slowly running out.”

“Then we shouldn’t waste any of it. Tell me everything.” 

I nod and draw in a deep breath before telling Peeta how this nightmare started.

“Gale told me a group of rebels approached him while he was out hunting on his own. They wanted to use all the attention I was getting from the Games to help recruit support from the other districts and the only way to get to me was through him,” I begin to explain.

“Go on,” Peeta urges.

“I wanted to tell you but Gale swore me to secrecy. He went on to tell me the rebels believed if we were seen together it would draw too much attention especially from the Capitol and Snow hasn’t forgiven us for the berries. It would have meant a death sentence for both our families and I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to them. I had to think of Prim.”

Peeta squeezes my hand. He understands I would do anything to keep my sister safe.

“I didn’t know Gale had planned to take me to the rebel headquarters until we were out hunting on Sunday. We walked further than we’ve ever dared to venture before but Gale seemed to know where he was going…

Two rebels, Bonnie and Twill were sent out to guide us back to their headquarters and as we started to walk deeper into the woods, Bonnie told us how the rebel army had been working closely with a secret ally and a combined strike on each of the districts before their final assault on the Capitol was just days away. Gale was glued to every word but all I could think of was how many innocent lives would be lost in the process?”

The feel of Peeta’s thumb rubbing against my hand has a calming effect and when I look up at him, he gives me a smile of encouragement and nods for me to continue.

“I told them we needed to go back and warn people but the two rebels were not about to let that happen. They needed the element of surprise. Gale managed to convince them to let him go back for our families while I remained behind, a decision I wasn’t happy with but in the end I agreed. Before Gale left, I made him promise to bring you back with him…even if he had to tie you up and carry you through the woods himself. He looked me straight in the eye and promised he wouldn’t leave you behind, no matter what and I believed him.”

Peeta has always been good at keeping a calm exterior and not letting anyone see his true emotions come to the surface but he can’t fool me. There’s a storm brewing in his eyes.

“It was dark by the time Gale arrived back at the rebel headquarters with our families and I was relieved to have my sister and mother safe with me but I kept looking for you. When I realised you weren’t with them, I thought I was going to lose my mind. Gale tried to calm me down, he told me you refused to go with him because you were engaged to Delly and wanted to toast with her. He said you wanted to forget me and that your future was with her,” I say, my voice cracking as I repeated Gale’s treacherous lies. “I screamed at him, punching and scratching until I was pulled away…I don’t remember much after that. Gale promised me he wouldn’t leave you behind…and he broke it.”

Peeta’s jawline tightens and I can see the temples on the side of his face pulsating as he tries to contain his anger. His tight lips turn upwards into a smile, a dark chuckle escaping his lips.

He cups my face with his hands and looks deep into my eyes, “nothing Gale told you is true. Yes, I was seeing Delly…at my mother’s behest. And yes, we kissed a few times but that was the extent of our relationship,” he says gently rubbing my cheeks with his thumbs. “I-I didn’t even know you were gone until the whipping. The curtains in your room were drawn like they always are on Sundays and I thought you and Gale were—” he stops talking and stands abruptly to pace around the room, the hint of laughter under his breath until he picks up the lampshade from his bedside table and hurls it across the room.

“He fucking knew!” Peeta shouts angrily, and his outburst startles me. “Gale knew if he came to me and said you needed me, I would have gone with him,” he tells me tugging at the ends of his hair. “I would have left everything behind and never looked back if it meant you wanted me for real.”

I never understood until now why Gale would always draw the curtains when we came into my room. Unbeknown to me, he was sending Peeta a certain type of message and the thought enrages me. I was never alone with him; grateful mama insisted my bedroom door remained open and Prim stay until he left.

“It was real Peeta,” I say softly, drawing back from my thoughts. “You and me…it will always be real.”

“Do you really mean that?”

“Yes,” I say.

Peeta’s face lights up and rushes the few steps to reach me, kneeling in front of me to gently take my trembling hands in his, “if the peacekeepers didn’t find you…” his voice cracking as he tries to speak. “What would you have done if I told you I wanted to stay in Twelve?” He swallows hard and bites his lower lip nervously waiting for my answer.

“Then I would have stayed…with you.”

He closes his eyes and takes in a shaky breath before opening them, “you said earlier you were scared of your feelings, what did you mean?”

My mouth feels dry and my heart is beating so fast it feels as though it will jump right out of my chest but I know what Peeta is asking me to do. I’ve never been good at saying something but looking into his eyes as he waits patiently for the words, I should have never been so afraid to admit…even to myself.

Peeta’s hand reaches for my braid just like he did in the games and his fingers begin to gently stroke and caress my hair and it calms me, “please Katniss…I know words are not your thing but this is important.”

I know it is and no matter how I tried to run away from the truth in the past, this is about Peeta and he deserves to hear them.

“I-I was afraid of becoming just like my mother,” I finally find the courage to admit it out loud. “She gave into her feelings a long time ago and it cost her dearly when she lost my father.” I try to explain.

Peeta opens his mouth then closes it again, the seconds flying by before Peeta speaks, “tell me,” he asks in a soft pleading whisper, still stroking my braid.

“She lost herself...because she loved him.”

Peeta leans into me until our lips touch. It’s a tender and sweet kiss at first and I instinctively wrap my arms around his neck letting him know I want more. Our lips lock again and because I’m much better at showing rather than saying, all my pent-up feelings are expressed in this passionate kiss.

When we break apart there’s a wildness in Peeta’s eyes sending a strange desire between my legs. There’s no denying how much I want to give into to whatever this is but I need to be completely honest and open with him before we take this further.

“There’s something I need to confess,” I say and Peeta looks at me with some concern. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop but when I woke this morning I could hear voices coming from downstairs,” I start my admission and his face immediately reddens. “The walls are thin and it wasn’t hard to realise it wasn’t Haymitch you were talking to. I overheard most of what you and Delly were saying and I’m sorry.”

Peeta shakes his head, “you have nothing to apologise for but thank you for telling me. There shouldn’t be any secrets between us, right?”

I nod, relieved to have this off my chest, yet ponder over somethings Delly said, “she’s right about one thing…I don’t deserve you.” Peeta looks at me with questioning eyes. “But if you’re willing to give me a second chance, I’ll never break your heart again.” I say, crumpling the end of his shirt nervously in my hands.

Peeta gently lifts my chin so my eyes look up to meet his, “my heart has belonged to you since I was five…it will always be yours,” he says. “But it would have saved us both so much pain and internal suffering if you came to me and explained what was really going on. I would have kept away knowing you—” he stops mid-sentence to take in a deep breath. “There’s just no point in keeping secrets from each other, is there?”

“There’s no point at all,” I agree shyly, before pressing my lips tenderly on his.

We lay on Peeta’s bed and with his arms wrapped around me, my head finds its place on his chest and the strong beating of his heart is so soothing my eyes begin to close to the calming rhythm. I have been so lonely for him all these weeks I realise life without Peeta Mellark would be unthinkable.

_I love my boy with the bread._

***

“Katniss.”

“Hmmm,” my sleepy voice says.

“Time to wake up.”

I feel so warm and contented I want to stay right where I am but reluctantly lift my head and rub my eyes to see a pair of bright blue eyes staring back at me.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” I reply groggily. “Did I fall asleep?”

Peeta kisses the top of my head before answering, “just for a little while but I think we should get out of this bed. And as much as I like seeing you in nothing but my shirt, we should definitely grab some clothes from your house.” Peeta suggests. I like being in his shirt too and the thought brings on a new rush of heat and I can’t help the smile forming on my face as I bury my head into his warm chest. “Then we find Haymitch,” he adds and I agree.

Peeta helps me out of bed and holds my hand as we start to walk out of his bedroom but I stop in my tracks and turn back to the breakfast tray sitting on the bedside table.

“What’s wrong?”

I don’t answer Peeta straight away, my mind focused on grabbing the cloth napkin still folded neatly on the tray and wrapping what’s left of the two pieces of toast he made just for me.

“Absolutely nothing,” I reply, standing on my tip toes to kiss him quickly on the lips before we head towards my house.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for Everlark Fic Exchange - Springtime 2020
> 
> Prompt 83: Katniss is whipped instead of Gale in Catching Fire, Peeta’s the one who’s there to take care of her after. [submitted by anonymous].
> 
> Prompt 116: Peeta braids Katniss’ hair to soothe her. [submitted by anonymous]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the Everlark Fic Exchange moderators @javistg and @xerxia31 for their generous time and patience while I finally got my act together.
> 
> Thank you to the two anonymous prompters. I took a little time trying to decide how to go about incorporating both prompts into my story. There was only one way to go which was to use my version of The Hunger Games. This is what I came up with and I hope you like it.
> 
> A special thank you to my friend and beta @sunsetsrmydreams. Without your support and guidance, this story would still be a dreaded 'Work in Progress'.

Katniss gathers some things from her dresser and places them in a small haversack to take with us including an old hairbrush before grabbing clean clothes to wear.

I turn my head when she starts to dress, a blush creeping over my entire face. It seems silly considering how only yesterday I removed all of her soiled clothing and sponge-bathed her, still…I don’t want Katniss to think I’m taking liberties.

“You know I don’t care if you see me,” she chuckles.

“Now where have I heard those words before?” I reply jokingly and any feelings of embarrassment fade when I turn around to see her smiling.

Tucking _my_ shirt into clean trousers then tugging a pair of sturdy boots on her feet, a smile creeps on my face as I watch Katniss carefully place the napkin inside her father’s hunting jacket before zipping it up.

_She’s definitely not one for wasting food,_ I think to myself.

When we step outside of her house to head towards Haymitch’s house, Katniss stops suddenly to gaze up at the trees lined along the pathway. She doesn’t say anything as we walk but her eyes remain focused upwards and there’s a worrying look on her face. 

“Is everything okay?”

“I’m not sure,” Katniss replies, dropping her gaze to look at me. “It’s probably nothing,” she adds, shrugging her shoulders before giving me a wistful smile.

When we reach our mentor’s front door, I knock as hard I can and wait a few seconds for him to either greet us in a drunken state or yell at the top of his lungs for us to go away. When neither happens, Katniss walks in knowing he never locks his door anyway and calls out for him as she manoeuvres her steps over empty white liquor bottles strewn across nearly every floor surface of his unkept and dust-filled house.

I follow her in and after searching every room, Haymitch is nowhere to be found and this only raises my concerns. Amongst other things, he said to stay home but knowing what I do, I’m not about to sit idle and wait for him to finally show up. I need answers and I need them now. Perhaps we’ll have better luck finding our elusive mentor in town. 

Fearing Thread will find some excuse to arrest us both and finish what he started, Katniss is a little reluctant for us to be seen in town but waiting for Haymitch is no longer an option. My suggestion for her to stay in my house while I continued the search on my own was met with stern words of disapproval.

“We go together or not at all.”

So we walk towards the town square and from the way Katniss is gripping my hand, I suspect she’s still feeling a little apprehensive. I break the silence to reassure her that everything will be okay but she hushes me. 

“Do you hear that?” she asks, squeezing my hand even tighter. 

“I don’t hear anything,” I answer, my eyes wandering around the square as townsfolk go about their daily business. “What am I—”

“The birds have gone.”

We feel it before we hear it, the rumble under our feet as a hovercraft marked with the distinguishable Capitol ensign appears in the afternoon sky. This cannot be a good thing as I watch people scurry in all directions and run to the safety of their shops and homes. Katniss and I take heed and make a dash towards the bakery, when an explosion knocks us both off our feet.

As choking dust fills the air and the sounds of screams and gun shots ring loud in my ears, I scramble to pull myself over Katniss.

It’s not hard to fathom what just happened, the planned rebel attack has begun and it appears the Capitol had been anticipating it. One thing’s for sure, we’re sitting ducks out in the open so I begin to calculate the distance between us and the bakery just as another explosion rocks the earth beneath us.

Death and destruction fall around us as I lift my head to see those who survived the initial blasts and gunfire fleeing for their lives as chaos reigns supreme. Dumbfounded, my eyes dart straight ahead to where my family’s bakery should be, only now nothing stands except twisted piles of burning rubble and debris.

_If we had been five minutes earlier…_

My body feels numb as my eyes stay fixed on the sight before me, but I snap myself back. There’s no time to mourn…no time to think of anything except to survive and with the insurgent rebel army and peacekeepers firing indiscriminately at each other, being pinned down on these cobble stones is not the ideal place to be.

“We can’t stay here!” I scream over the deafening sounds around us.

“The meadow!” Katniss screams back. “If we can get to the alleyway!”

I turn my head to where Katniss is pointing and see a narrow window of escape is before us and we make a break for it.

I feel a jolt as bullets whisk by but all I can think about is keeping our heads down and running as fast as we can. I let out the deep breath I was holding when we reach the relative safety of the aged stone walls…but we’re not the only ones here.

Standing before us is our angry mentor with two armed and just as angry men, in grey uniforms. The taller one with scratch marks to his face and neck I recognise immediately and ball my hands into tight fists as Gale Hawthorne’s eyes dart from me to Katniss. Only the feel of Katniss’ trembling hand over mine stops me from reacting.

“I thought I told you to stay put, boy!” Haymitch shouts, yanking me away from Katniss by the collar of my shirt.

“I got tired of waiting so we decided to come out looking for you!” I shout back, pulling myself away from his grasp.

“Well congratulations…you found me!” Haymitch replies sarcastically.

Haymitch turns to Gale and the other soldier, who looks remarkably like peacekeeper Darius Jackson and yells out a command, “get us out of here before our ride decides to leave without us!”

_Ride?_

Katniss and I look at each other with confused looks on our faces but we keep silent and follow them without question towards a large gaping hole in the wired fence. The Darius look-a-like runs through first then Haymitch, Gale taking a step through and waits anxiously on the other side of the fence.

“Don’t stop for anything. Keep running. I’ll be right behind you!” I tell Katniss.

“Promise?”

“I promise! I say, kissing the top of her forehead, “I’ll see you soon.” She nods and steps through the fence but not before shooting Gale a quick cold stare. 

Not surprisingly, Gale doesn’t wait for me to go through the fence and runs ahead to catch up to Katniss and the others. I stop and take one last fleeting look at my burning district to leave its memory to the past before stepping through the fence and running as fast as I can towards my future.

***

My leg begins to falter and drags along the ground and I begin to panic as the distance between Katniss and I grows until she is out of my line of sight. I unceremoniously tumble to the ground and thump my fist hard on the ground in frustration.

I pull my trouser leg up and to my astonishment, find the reason behind my inability to run is a bullet lodged in the intricate mechanics of my new leg, “Fuck!” I curse loudly. “Well, at least it wasn’t my real leg…otherwise I’d be in real trouble,” I joke with myself, though this is far from a joking matter.

Managing to right myself back up, I start to hop on one foot but I soon lose my balance and fall to the ground again. But I can’t let this discourage me and get back on my feet…foot again and will myself to keep going.

Even if I have to crawl to get to Katniss, I won’t stop trying.

It takes some effort but I soon get into a rhythm although it’s taxing on my body. I start to wonder why no one has realised I’m not behind them when I see Gale running into the clearing towards me holding a very sophisticated and intimidating weapon tightly in his hands.

“Are you here to finish me off,” I say half-heartedly when Gale reaches me.

He doesn’t say anything just looks down at my mechanical leg and by the way his trigger finger is moving, I’d be a fool to think he wouldn’t be weighing his options right about now.

“If you’re going to kill me will you at least tell Katniss I tried to keep my promise.”

He jerks his head up abruptly with fire burning in his eyes and I know I’ve hit a sore spot but my current predicament is reason enough for me not to care about hurt feelings.

As Gale steps closer, I take in a deep breath but keep my eyes on him, refusing to look away. But instead of taking aim, he locks his weapon into safety mode and grabs the straps over his head so it hangs on his side. Then in one swift motion, he grabs my arms and lifts me in the air with minimal effort and I find myself face down and staring at the long grass of the meadow.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m here to keep _my_ promise,” Gale says as he shifts my weight evenly across his shoulder.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for Everlark Fic Exchange - Springtime 2020
> 
> Prompt 83: Katniss is whipped instead of Gale in Catching Fire, Peeta’s the one who’s there to take care of her after. [submitted by anonymous].
> 
> Prompt 116: Peeta braids Katniss’ hair to soothe her. [submitted by anonymous]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the Everlark Fic Exchange moderators @javistg and @xerxia31 for their generous time and patience while I finally got my act together.
> 
> Thank you to the two anonymous prompters. I took a little time trying to decide how to go about incorporating both prompts into my story. There was only one way to go which was to use my version of The Hunger Games. This is what I came up with and I hope you like it.
> 
> A special thank you to my friend and beta @sunsetsrmydreams. Without your support and guidance, this story would still be a dreaded 'Work in Progress'.

Taking it as a reassuring sign we’ve reached our destination, my ears prick up to the sound of engines humming and people shouting at Gale to hurry. I’m further reassured when the terrain changes from dirt and tall grasses to black steel.

_This must be our ride._

Gale runs onto the steel ramp just as it begins to close and sets me down onto a cold steel seat a little further into the belly of the craft.

“Peeta!”

I look around frantically at the sound of Katniss’ voice calling out my name and see her on the opposite side trying to free herself from the restraints of her own seat as two armed soldiers on either side try to convince her to stay seated. 

“Katniss!” I shout back, awkwardly pulling myself up on my good leg only to feel Gale’s heavy hand on my shoulder pushing me back down.

“Strap yourself in. We’re about to take off,” Gale informs me.

_Ooompff_. I don’t have time to protest as Katniss pushes Gale out of her way and launches herself at me. I grab her tightly in my arms breathing in her scent as she peppers kisses over every inch of my face.

“My stupid leg…it wouldn’t work—” I try to explain but she continues to kiss me and I can feel the wetness from her tears on my cheeks.

“I thought I lost you,” she chokes between each word.

“Shshsh, I’m here now,” I say in a hushed tone, holding her tightly in my arms, “if Gale hadn’t shown up when he did, I would have missed our ride,” I tell her. “He saved me Katniss,” I say, lifting her chin to look at me. “Gale brought me back to you.”

Katniss lets out a shaky laugh and I flick my eyes to the side to where Gale now sits buckled to his seat, his head lowered. She kisses my lips sweetly before slowly turning to Gale, “Thank you,” she says in an almost whisper but Gale hears it and lifts his head to look at her and nods, a brief smile appearing on his face.

“The star-crossed lovers reunion can wait until we get to District 13,” Haymitch announces. I hadn’t even noticed he was sitting across from me.

“Thirteen?”

“You heard me. Welcome to the revolution lovebirds. I’m sure you’ve got plenty of questions and I’ll explain everything but for now buckle up, it’s going to be a bumpy ride.” We do as Haymitch says and Katniss takes the empty seat next to me holding onto my hand tightly.

As the hovercraft begins its assent, I take a moment to look around my surroundings and see most of the seats are filled with people from our district…survivors just like us.

At first estimate, I count in my head at least 200 hundred people. Amongst the small crowd, I’m surprised to see peacekeeper Darius who sits next to his look-a-like, both obviously happy to see the other and the resemblance is unquestionable.

Brothers.

Haymitch begins his story by telling us how he first joined the rebel underground after President Snow killed his family, his contact with District 13 after rebel spies discovered a plot to reap the surviving Victors for the quarter quell and how this planned attack was about freeing Panem from President Snow’s sadistic rule once and for all.

I scan my eyes further along the craft after Haymitch was done talking, hoping to find my own brothers.

My breath hitches when I lock onto a small group of people unmistakably Merchant. Madge Undersee is the first person I recognise followed by a shell-shocked Delly Cartwright who has her arm wrapped protectively around her younger brother seated beside her.

But they’re not there.

“They could’ve made it out somehow,” Katniss says hopefully, noticing my gaze.

“Yeah…maybe,” I answer, kissing the top of her head softly. But deep down I know the probability is next to zero.

***

We gawk in amazement as our hovercraft lands safely in District 13. An impenetrable fortress made of concrete and steel strategically built deep underground.

Once the steel ramp of the hovercraft lowers and locks securely, a flurry of uniformed officials welcome us not as refugees but as new soldiers of District 13… _a title I’m not sure I like._

We are quickly ushered towards a ‘clearance team’ waiting to check everyone, giving those who need medical attention priority. Hardly considering myself a medical priority, I’m nonetheless placed on a steel gurney and wheeled into a curtained partition of their hospital emergency room and assessed.

Katniss refuses to leave my side the whole time and holds onto my hand tightly insisting she can be checked just fine next to me, a fierce look in her eyes silently warning no one try and challenge her.

To my relief…no one does.

Temporary repairs are made on my prosthetic leg by a robotics technician and even though my gait is somewhat compromised, I’m grateful I can at least walk unaided.

I’m to report to someone called Beetee tomorrow morning for further evaluation on my leg with the view of a more advanced replacement and think to myself maybe life here in Thirteen won’t be so bad.

Medically cleared, we are moved on to another team who measure us from head to toe before handing out a parcel each containing a set of clean clothes, shoes according to our size and a package labelled ‘personal hygiene’.

With parcels in hand, compartment allocation is next and my heart starts to sink knowing I’ll have to spend my nights in this place without Katniss.

“There she is!”

We both turn around to see Mrs Everdeen rushing towards us with her sister in tow wearing the brightest of smiles. Katniss immediately locks Primrose in a loving embrace, ignoring her mother altogether.

“Gale told us you were here,” her mother says, brushing off her daughter’s cold welcome. “I was so worried Katniss. You shouldn’t have runaway like that,” she adds.

Katniss steps away and reaches her hand out for me to hold, “you gave me sleep syrup to stop me from going back for Peeta.”

“You almost scratched poor Gale’s eye out. It was the only way to calm you,” Mrs Everdeen says in her defence. Katniss doesn’t respond but I can see how much she resented being drugged. A feeling I know only too well.

“I’m glad to see you are safe Peeta,” Mrs Everdeen turns to me and says genuinely, breaking a moment of uncomfortable silence.

Katniss huffs but I smile and thank Mrs Everdeen just as an officer orders us to line up and register our details for allotted compartments.

“There’s no need for my daughter to register, she’s been assigned to the Everdeen family compartment; Katniss Everdeen; Level 32; Room 234a,” Mrs Everdeen informs the District 13 officer.

“No, I’m going to register with Peeta.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Mrs Everdeen responds. “Peeta will need to reg—”

Katniss doesn’t wait for her mother to finish her sentence and leads me to the registry desk in the middle of the processing room.

“Name…age…occupation…marital status?” the registry officer asks robotically, not bothering to look up and stares at the small screen on his device waiting to key in my answer.

“Peeta Mellark…17…baker…s—”

“Married.” Katniss answers the last question for me and squeezes my hand. I turn my head, mouth gaped open in surprise but I don’t say anything and play along with the ruse.

The officer raises his head from the device and looks at Katniss, “and you would be..?”

“Katniss Mellark…17…hunter…wife of Peeta Mellark. We’re married…to each other,” she gestures, pointing her finger between the two of us.

The officer darts his eyes suspiciously from me to Katniss.

Holding in an anxious breath, I feel Katniss’ grip on my hand tighten but the officer eventually lowers his gaze and types in the information, allowing us to breathe a collective sigh of relief.

I hear a shocked gasp behind us which could only have come from Mrs Everdeen but I don’t dare turn my head to look. Primrose on the other hand, rushes over to hug me first then Katniss and whispers something in her ear causing Katniss to blush.

“That’s not true! She’s too young to be married,” Mrs Everdeen informs the officer who raises his head and huffs in frustration.

“I usually keep my noise out of people’s business but I’ll make an exception in this case,” Haymitch says, appearing out of nowhere accompanied by an older soldier and by the looks of his uniform, he’s someone of high-ranking importance.

“Sweetheart and the boy technically became of age the moment they became Victors.”

Shock covers Mrs Everdeen’s face, “but she’s only been gone for 2 days and Twelve’s traditions stats—”

“There is no District 12!” Haymitch exclaims. “What matters is the here and now and if they say they toasted then it’s good enough for me, he announces. “Young love Lily…have you’ve forgotten what that’s like?”

Mrs Everdeen swallows hard and looks across to Katniss and me as her eyes begin to glisten, “no…I haven’t forgotten.” she replies softly.

“We don’t know what the future holds for any us and these two have been through a lot. They deserve a little happiness…don’t you think?” Haymitch questions. Mrs Everdeen ponders his words before eventually nodding in agreement. “Now what do you say we leave the newlyweds to themselves while we enjoy a hot cup of tea in the dining room,” he suggests.

Mrs Everdeen agrees and before she leaves, insists Katniss accompany her to the medical clinic in the morning and another blush appears on Katniss’ face but relents.

“Congratulations Mr and Mrs Mellark. Enjoy your honeymoon,” Haymitch says, giving us a sly wink before he and his friend, who introduces himself as General Maximus Jackson, escort Mrs Everdeen and Prim to the dining room.

The sound of someone clearing their throat startles us both, “so…you two married or what?” the frustrated officer asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Married!” Katniss replies without pause.

The officer then looks to me for confirmation, “married,” I tell him swallowing hard and hoping the blush on my own face doesn’t give anything away.

***

Stepping into our compartment, we take a look around and see it adequately furnished with a large bunk bed, a chest of draws; a small closet and an equally small bathroom but it’s nothing to complain about.

We haven’t said a word to each other since we were given our compartment passcode. But the burning question I want to ask Katniss must wait, both of us agreeing to shower before settling in.

Although brief, the warm spray of water felt good on my skin and I quickly changed into the clothes marked ‘bed clothing’ in my parcel. When I slide the bathroom door open, Katniss is sitting on the bunk bed dressed in her District Thirteen issued pyjamas, her hair slightly damp from her shower.

Katniss raises her head to see me looking at her and I’m mesmerized by the beautiful sight before me. “Will you braid my hair Peeta?” she asks softly, offering her hairbrush to me.

My breath hitches as she leans her head back and sighs in contentment when my hands whisper over her neck and sweep the dark mane to trail down her back. I begin to brush her hair, carefully working through the knots and snags caused by our harrowing race for safety. Katniss hums as I continue until the brush moves through smoothly.

I reverently run my fingers through the long locks before dividing them into sections then gently braiding them together. I’m struck by the intimacy of the moment, bringing my question bubbling to the surface.

“Why did you lie to your mother about us being married?”

Katniss straightens her back and turns around looking deep into my eyes, “I didn’t. You baked the bread and I asked you and you agreed…remember?”

With my forehead creased in deep thought it takes only a few seconds to understand what Katniss is saying and there’s no hiding the huge smile forming on my lips, _“_ _yes.”_

“I know I’m not good with words but it was the same bread you gave me all those years ago and it was perfect,” Katniss says. “You’re not taking it back are you Peeta? You do want me as your wife…don’t you?”

My hands instinctively cup her cheeks, “Katniss Everdeen, a life with you has been my fantasy for as long as I can remember. I’ve dreamt of asking you to toast with me,” I start to explain. “I’ve wanted to say so many things to you, solemnly vow to honour and keep you safe for the rest of my life, then take you in my arms and show you how much I love you,” I say, feeling heat slowly creeping up my neck as the warmth rushes to my groin.

She steps away and I immediately begin to worry I’ve said too much. Katniss searches through the pocket of her father’s hunting jacket hanging over a chair and brings the napkin she grabbed earlier today and unfolds it onto the bunk.

There in front of my eyes is the untouched triangle-shaped piece of toast and I have to wonder how it wasn’t confiscated when we were being checked over. 

Katniss smiles, the same blush appearing on her face, “it’s Katniss Mellark now but you can ask me to toast with you again if you want and the answer will be the same,” she tells me. “You can say all those words you’ve dreamt telling me…then when you’re done husband, you can show me how much you love me.”

…and so I do.

**Katniss -** **Epilogue**

My eyes are closed but there’s a sense of comfort and mellowness blossoming inside of me as I take in a deep breath to enjoy the familiar scent I’ve come to love. In my relaxed state, it takes some effort to force my eyelids to open and when I do, my eyes focus on the edge of the bank as a paddle of ducks swim lazily across my father’s lake.

Gone are the electrified fences. The curfews. The peacekeepers. The fear.

This was the first place I took Peeta to see after the war had ended. So many lives were lost during our fight for freedom but for now, there is peace.

So, we rebuilt our towns and our families and we vowed to honour the dead by living well.

As I take in the peaceful surroundings, the smell of freshly baked bread invades my senses and all thoughts of death and destruction is forgotten when I feel a pair of warm, muscled arms wrap around my rather large and protruding stomach.

Bringing a child into this world was something I told myself I would never experience and the idea of new life growing inside of me should seem utterly terrifying. Yet as my hand rests on top of his, waiting for our little one to let us know she’s awake, what I’m feeling right now has nothing to do with fear.

I lean back into his loving embrace and instinctively tilt my head to the side allowing him full access.

The moment his lips start to trail kisses down my neck, an enticing shiver courses through my body and I hum my approval with great fervour.

“We don’t have to be afraid anymore,” he whispers softly.

“No, we don’t have to be afraid,” I whisper back, as we stop to watch his favourite colour slowly disappear below the horizon.

**The End...beginning**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading my story, for the kudos and kind comments.


End file.
